Daph...PHYLLIS!

In episode 20, season 5 of Frasier, Niles wants to ask Daphne out on a date but when it comes to the point where he is about to tell her the name of the woman he wants so much, his answer is, "Daph...PHYLLIS!!" Later in the episode, after much hilarious misunderstandings and mishaps, he realises he's had so much trouble asking Daphne out is because he's still grappling with his failed marriage and isn't ready.

That occurred to me tonight as I was thinking about last weekend when I was so tempted to ask a very cute guy out but didn't. (If I had, that'd have been a first - Daffy hitting on a guy.)

And thinking of it tonight, I suddenly had a mental scream.

WHAT THE HELL WAS I THINKING??? Asking a guy out only because he was good looking and nice to talk to? And even before the daisies have pushed out of the remnants of my previous relationship? And I thought it was fun?? Where have my bleeding brains gone?

What is this? The Rebound Express? The Post-Traumatic Hormonal Surge?

The fact is I'm scared shitless at the thought of dating anyone at this point. Going out with friends and acquaintances is more than ok, wonderful even. But I swear, if a guy even gives me a lovin' look, I'll run screeching in the other direction. Why did I even want to open up an avenue? Friends tell me I should've just gone for it, that even casual dating might be the thing to do. But I'm an all-or-nothing person - casual doesn't do it for me (yes, Candice, slap me on the back of my head now).

Then I started to picture this big dramatic, soap-opera-worthy scene where I lose control and start ranting about how damaged each failed relationship and hurtful bastard has made me, that I have enough emotional baggage to take Phileas Fogg on TWO journeys, that I wouldn't stop for any man now even if it were Jude Law begging me for a fuck. That I never want to love again.

Never again. Those are sobering words, enough to halt even a rant in full swing in my head.

I know I want to again, eventually. But yet, it's too scary. The next guy who tells me he loves me might well see me shrivel up and pull away. He may never get to see my trust. He may go away when he realises I will not open up. And I would be regretfully relieved of another potential heartbreak.

In spite of what I try to tell myself, I do want to feel safe and be protected. I want someone to promise never to hurt me and mean it. I want someone who will keep his word, or at least try to. I want someone honest. But I know he doesn't exist.

I used to think otherwise. That it was fine and dandy to hope for the best. But perhaps my dad was right. Hope for the least so that any outcome will exceed your hopes, but build on opportunities - and don't forget to seal the contracts while you're at it. Practical words.

I'm a cynical optimist, a very uncomfortable state of being. At least when it comes to my work and my passions, I'm able to feel more secure even if things don't go well, because it will all depend on myself and my own ability and initiative. Relationships just depend too much on the other person. Doing your best is never enough, since a relationship is greater than the sum of its parts. (Hmm...the song I wrote for Kelvin was called "Sum of Us".)

Being scared is no fun. Makes me over-analyse even the most trivial, hormonal things.